"Hook, Line & Sister" | VailDaily.com

"Hook, Line & Sister"

Kimberly NicolettiSummit Daily NewsVail, CO Colorado
Special to the Daily/Sierra Anderson

While some participants on reality shows accuse producers of cutting and slicing minute pieces in such a cutthroat way as to make the final cut overly dramatic, the Andersons said TLC didn’t have to do that: Their life is that dramatic.The show, about a Breckenridge family’s real-life commercial-fishing business in Alaska, premiered last week. And the family admits TLC didn’t have to manipulate its “characters” to deliver a compelling seven-week series that depicts the extreme highs and lows of commercial fishing in Alaska – and some of the tense family dynamics accompanying the Andersons’ family business.”The character dynamics are so unique and different, they don’t need to do more to make it interesting,” said 26-year-old Sierra, one of the two sisters in TLC’s “Hook, Line & Sister.” “It’s totally raw and real. I think viewers will walk away with raw and realness with the characters.”Though her sister, 21-year-old Memry, admits it’s a bit frustrating to watch an entire three months of her life compressed into less than four hours of television time (a one-hour premiere on Thursday, followed by six 30-minute weekly Thursday shows that run through Feb. 2), the family still said the production company, Screaming Flea Productions, based in Seattle, did a great job presenting the nerve-wracking life of commercial fishing. Memry yearned to tell her story, especially in 2010 when she experienced her most intense summer on the family’s 58-foot purse seiner because “I was pushed way past my limit, being stuck on the boat,” she said. “If you quit, then you’d get your pay cut. … You end up feeling numb. I just wanted to jump off the boat. I locked myself in the bathroom. My dad was pushing me so hard. There was no balance, in terms of us eating together. I watched the same (TV series), ‘That ’70s Show’ …””Anything to bring you back to civilization,” Sierra quickly interjected during the conversation in their Breckenridge home, adding she jumped overboard at one point when she felt like she couldn’t stand the pressure. “You want to feel alive. You don’t even care if you’re making $1,000 a day.””It’s scary you can go that insane,” Memry said.

While the girls are used to taking a couple of weeks to adjust to civilization, even one as laid back as Summit County, after three months on the Alaskan ocean, in fall of 2010, Memry got “really depressed” for a few months. “No one knows what I went through,” she said. “I try to explain, but no one gets it, and it’s such a huge part of my life. … What got me back (this year): I want my story told.” Which is why she returned for another season and allowed Screaming Flea’s crew – some of the same cameramen who filmed “The Deadliest Catch,” “Survivor” and “The Amazing Race” – to spend approximately 500 hours with her, her sister, her mother, Susan, and her father, Dean, on their boat this summer, capturing every emotion as they faced intense sun, brutal storms, isolation (including no Internet, no television, no cellphones) and an average of four hours of sleep every 24 hours on the boat for three months in a row. (They tried to catch up on sleep during the few periods when the Alaska Department of Fish and Game closed down fishing and the family went ashore.)And yet, the pain also has proved the family’s strengths and has helped them bond – especially the women. Sierra and Memry are particularly close, and they appreciate their mom’s support – as well as her cooking, as opposed to the Top Ramen most fishermen eat on the male-dominated boats. They’ve also learned perseverance. For example, Sierra is prone to sea sickness, but “because everyone relies on everyone (else), you just deal with it,” she said. “You have no choice. You just suck it up (and throw up) and work. It’s a machine. It’s poetry in motion.””- Besides poetry in motion,” Susan cuts in, “sometimes it’s a comedy of errors.””I love having my family around,” she said. “It means a lot to me because it is a bonding experience. You get away from your environment and have time to talk, to get to know each other, but it’s hard because I’m their employer, their friend.”And the conversation turns to staying sane in the insane world of commercial fishing, where people have three months to make a year’s salary, which literally means working day and night, with maybe two or three hours of sleep – some caught in 20-minute naps. “You definitely turn into a zombie,” Memry said. “You totally lose a part of yourself.”In a desperate attempt to hold onto parts of themselves, the sisters turn to magazines they’d never otherwise pick up:”Normally, I don’t like gossip magazines, but you lose touch with your feminine side,” Sierra said. “It’s almost comforting to look at magazines. I almost remember what it’s like being a girl, wearing makeup and looking cute.”

In addition to the regular stresses of commercial salmon fishing, the family has its own challenging dynamics, particularly with a father who, born into the industry, is extremely intense.”He’s quick to anger,” his wife of 29 years, Susan, said. “He can go from one to 10 in a couple of seconds. … He’s a very aggressive fisherman. He gets so focused and in a frenzy.”Susan met her husband, Dean, the captain of the boat, in Alaska in 1978, and the couple married in 1982, raising three of their four young kids in Alaska until they moved to Seattle in 1989 and then Summit County in 1996. Dean spent winters crab and cod fishing and summers salmon fishing. Susan often took the kids on up to three-month trips to Africa, Asia and Australia while Dean fished in the winters and then brought them on the boat during summers.For the past two years, the family has been one of only 49 boats in Sitka, Alaska, chosen to fish for herring, prized for their eggs in Japan. The show’s premiere featured an intense crash the Andersons survived during what people call “combat fishing” because only the most competitive participate in herring fishing, which literally only remains open for 10 minutes to two hours and after paying a $600,000 license fee can result in zero to half a million dollars or more, Susan said.”Herring fishing is like being in a war, literally,” she said.The remainder of the television series focuses on the family’s salmon fishing experiences, which is their “bread and butter,” she said.Sierra began documenting her family’s fishing experiences after college as a way of communicating her experiences because she felt like she lived a dual life; she and her sister grew up figure skating and ski racing, yet they both live at least a quarter of their lives in a male-dominated world where “sexual harassment is a huge problem and men don’t see women as equal, so (women) have to work twice as hard for the same amount of respect,” she said.While most television pitches take at least a year or two to come to fruition, the Andersons hooked Discovery Communications’ attention almost immediately. In fact, the production company told Sierra they “never had a deal this big happen so fast,” she said. She put together a video, signed with a production company that pitched it to Discovery, and within a month, they had a green light. The show is the first to showcase salmon fishing.

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